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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359481">Midnight Lobsters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymelodrama/pseuds/ladymelodrama'>ladymelodrama</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/salzrand/pseuds/salzrand'>salzrand</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jade Sea Scrolls [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Jade Sea verse, LOBSTERS IN LOVE, Sea God Jorah, Siren Daenerys, The Origins of Aemon Mormont</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:21:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymelodrama/pseuds/ladymelodrama, https://archiveofourown.org/users/salzrand/pseuds/salzrand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, on a hot, <em>hot</em> night on the Jade Sea...</p><p>With illustrations by salzrand &lt;3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jade Sea Scrolls [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title on this fic is ridiculous again, I know 😂 But second choice was "Aemon's Conception Fic" so... </p><p>Anyway, here you go, friends. Consider this some fluff payment for all the angst I've been serving up in the longer fics lately :) </p><p>And oh look, some extra special salzrand art too! Eeeeeeeeeeeee! 😍😍😍😍😍</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>Jorah</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The heat was stifling that night, even hours after the sun went down. </p>
<p>Summer had lingered for so long this time—the longest summer in a thousand years. And even now, it seemed reluctant to say farewell. </p>
<p>Especially here, at the Jade Sea, where the winters were mild and the southern winds blew up jungle heat, even deep into autumn. Like tonight, when the evening was fever-burnt and sizzling, and midnight stayed stagnant in its mugginess, shallow breaths of humid air caressing the surface of our warm waters too lazily to stir up any relief.</p>
<p>Every window in the villa was wide open to the night air. But it made no difference. </p>
<p>At our bedroom window, Daenerys sought out a sea breeze but found nothing but the silver-white sheen of a full moon and the trilling songs of sleep-deprived nightingales and buzzing cicadas in the gardens. </p>
<p>The shoulder of her nightgown was falling down her bare shoulder, as she drew the loose collar down to just above her breasts, pulling the fabric away from her sticky skin. Her other hand gathered up the tresses of her long hair from the back of her neck, where tiny beads of sweat gathered too easily.</p>
<p>She sighed in the heat, closing her eyes, likely trying to conjure a cool breeze from will and memory alone. </p>
<p>I was doing likewise at the foot of our bed, reclined back across a mattress shorn of all covers, staring at the ceiling and thinking of how welcome I’d greet a gale coming off snow-capped mountains right now. But there was nothing. Not a wind, not a whisper. Just cotton sheets that somehow felt like the thickest winter wool and an oppressive air that forced my lungs inhale deeply with every breath. </p>
<p>“Gods, it’s hot tonight,” Daenerys muttered from the open window, echoing the thoughts of every person along the coast that night. </p>
<p>There was little else to think about. She kept her voice low and quiet, as it was the middle of the night and the baby was asleep, dozing in her crib, in the nursery just across the hall. </p>
<p>Bless her, Jeorgianna was sleeping soundly.</p>
<p>Our daughter’s tolerance for this weather was <em>far</em> better than mine, a northern bear born in lands that preferred a dusting of snow on its evergreens and giant chunks of blue-white ice bobbing up and down in its cold waters. But better than her mother’s too, despite the fire that laced my Targaryen wife’s Valyrian blood.</p>
<p>Daenerys could put her hands into open flame and not feel a thing. She always liked the warmth of this climate, sleeping under sheets and curled against me even on balmy, bath-warm nights. But this was far more than a balmy night. We might as well have been locked inside a kiln or the fiery inferno of a dragon’s glowing throat.</p>
<p>At her words, I opened my eyes and glanced over at Daenerys, innocently, drawn only by the sound of her voice. </p>
<p>But she was now fanning herself with one hand, languidly, still holding her hair back with the other. And the way her skin was doused in sweat and moon glow, the way her eyes were closed against the heat, her dark lashes laid out against the rise of her cheek. The way that nightgown was slipping down, off her shoulder, and the way it fell, all silk and wisp of gauze, against her pretty curves…</p>
<p>
   
 </p>
<p>Looking her way was a mistake.</p>
<p>If I was smoldering before, I was on fire now. And without invitation, a familiar drumbeat had started in my head, the sound of my heart hammering at a familiar prospect. If she opened her eyes, she’d read my face too easily. She’d grin wickedly, as it was a game between us sometimes. And the one who acknowledged <em>want</em> first, lost.</p>
<p><em>If you think that’s losing, love, you’re playing the game wrong…</em> </p>
<p>Still, I held back a strong, sudden impulse to reach for her. It was too hot for that sort of thing. We’d boil over. We’d both die of heat stroke if we tangled in the sheets tonight. Besides, it was the time of month when we were always a little more careful, a little less spontaneous. </p>
<p>Just in case. </p>
<p>Although…in the last few months, I’d noticed we were skirting the edge of that rule and perhaps even breaking it. Daenerys had made her desires clear to me. She wanted another baby. She wanted another baby <em>soon</em>. But I still wasn’t so sure. Jeorgianna’s delivery hadn’t been an easy one, no matter how much Daenerys claimed otherwise.</p>
<p>And if she thinks I can ever forget how close I came to losing her that night in the Red Waste, and the hollow sound of her desperate cries when I pulled the Khal’s son from her body, stillborn and silent…</p>
<p><em>But I survived, Jorah. And our daughter lives.</em> She would whisper in response, her tone going sultry, her hand snaking around my hip and down my groin to draw me around to her way of thinking. I’m afraid she was always a little too convincing.</p>
<p>The memory of how convincing she could be was…not helping. I rolled onto my stomach, burying my head in the clammy pillow and groaning very softly, against the heat of the night, against the heat in my veins. </p>
<p>I thought of anything but <em>that</em>. Anything but <em>her</em>. </p>
<p>Mundane nonsense, daily chores. Packing fish in barrels, casting nets over blue water. Falling a pine tree in the forest with my father when I was still a boy. But all my thoughts, each and every one, even the ones from years ago and far away, were tightly entwined with Daenerys. I could still hear her quiet breathing across the room. I could smell the lavender scents in her hair. And the image of her at the window was now imprinted on the back of my eyelids, whether I liked it or not.</p>
<p>Oh, I liked it. There was no question on that score.</p>
<p>“Enough of this,” I decided, finally, speaking my thoughts aloud. What I needed was a jump in ice cold water. Or middling cold water, whatever the sea was willing to serve up. I sat up in bed, swinging my legs around the side of the mattress. I reached for my shirt, which was hanging on the back of the nearest chair, pulling it on over my head. </p>
<p>It was no use pretending we’d sleep in this weather. </p>
<p>“You’re putting on more clothes?” Daenerys had opened her eyes at my rustlings. She glanced over from her window perch, incredulously, wondering if I’d gone mad. </p>
<p>“Not for long,” I grumbled. </p>
<p>My eyes were drawn back to her. It was too hot to give words to my plan but I nodded towards the sea, making my intentions clear. The breeze might be dead, but the water might still give us some relief. </p>
<p>She approved immediately, her eyes glinting at the rash idea of a midnight swim in the moonlight. Her hair soon tumbled down from her hands and spilled over her shoulders, in silver-blonde waves. Did she realize what she was doing to me? She went looking for a pair of shoes and I urged her to hurry, as I could use that plunge in the water sooner rather than later. </p>
<p>She grinned at my words, reading my expression too plainly, hearing a note in my voice that she was too familiar with. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t call me out, but I knew she was reading my mind, nonetheless. </p>
<p>I’d deny it but it was too hot to deny anything. Besides, I’d be fine once I got in the water.</p>
<p>If only she’d hurry…</p>
<p>Before we left the villa, we checked on Jeorgianna. She was stretched out in her crib, her little breaths even and her little mind lost to dreamscapes. Sweet ones, I hoped, of daisies, songbirds and sunshine. My daughter deserved only the sweetest dreams and I hoped they would follow her all the days of her life. </p>
<p>The night was so still, dead-calm and simmering, that we’d hear her if she started crying, even down on the beach. But knowing Jeorgianna, she’d sleep straight through the night. She rarely cried for us, unless she was sick. If she woke early, Jeorgianna would chatter to herself and play in her crib, patiently waiting for her mother or I to come into the nursery at daybreak and greet her with morning kisses, pressed against the tip of her little nose, and the sides of her dimpled cheeks. </p>
<p>Daenerys kissed her own fingers and risked skimming them across Jeorgianna’s brow, brushing a wispy lock of the baby’s hair back from her sleeping face at the same time.</p>
<p>Jeorgianna didn’t stir at her mother’s gentle touch, much to my relief. Sweet-natured, Jeorgianna may be, but I would still rather not spend the next hour pacing this nursery, trying to coax her back to sleep. Daenerys gave me a sideways smirk as we left the nursery, knowing that I’d been holding my breath, hoping our child didn’t wake.</p>
<p><em>You shouldn’t doubt me, Jorah</em>…her eyes scolded plainly.       </p>
<p>We crept downstairs and snuck out of the villa quietly. The cobblestone path was bathed in white, illuminated by the light of that full moon. The humidity in the air was little better out here than inside the house, and we were soon racing down to the shoreline, trusting the water to bring us that elusive relief.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And I won't even make you wait for Ch 2 :) Here you go. Enjoy! All in the name of F L U F F ❤️</p><p>Rating on this chapter is T+...mostly for the scandalous artwork lol 😘 Provided, as always, by the ridiculously and incredibly talented salzrand. GURL. Hot. Damn. 🔥</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>Daenerys</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>The water was cold! Or colder than I expected, at least.</p><p>With one foot dipped in the surf, I was instantly cured of the oppressive heat that had seemed so overwhelming up at the house. Jorah laughed at the little shriek that escaped my surprised lips, teasing, “Too cold for a dragon?” </p><p>Used to <em>far</em> colder waters than this, my bear stripped down and waded out, diving through the plunging waves as soon as he was in deep enough water to manage it. I found myself watching him wade out, as it was a rare sight to see him like this. My grim, northern husband, completely naked under the moonlight, taking the waters like a sea god.</p><p>Well, maybe I <em>was</em> too warm, after all.  </p><p>Jorah likes to say that night was all my fault, but he’s the one who suggested we go down to the beach, didn’t he? That wasn’t me. And he’s the one who stripped down to dive into those waters without a stitch of clothes on, leaving his garments in a heap on the sand.</p><p>Abandoned in a rush to find relief. Sitting there, <em>so</em> easy to snatch away.</p><p>It was an impulsive thing to do, I know, fraught with consequences. But he was so distracted and so intent on cooling down and swimming those waters that he didn’t notice that I didn’t follow, opting to hide his clothes back among the rocks that wouldn’t be splashed until high tide, secreted away like the skin of a selkie. </p><p><em>My</em> selkie. Never to be given up.</p><p>Afterwards, I found myself a perch on black rocks closer to the water, where my feet could feel the kiss of cold surf. I planted both feet in the surf-washed sand and finally found that sea breeze that I’d been looking for all night long, turning my face to its night whispers. I reached down to let my fingers be bathed in the racing surf as the water came up the shoreline and then pulled back again. Over and over again.</p><p>There was such easy rhythm to it. Forward and back. In and out. </p><p>The moon reflected off the water and wet beaches, lighting up the coast for miles. I could see nearly down to the bend in the bay, where the harbor lay just beyond those cliffs. And looking out across the waters, I’d be able to pick out the Pearl Islands, as black specks on a silver-dark horizon. </p><p>But my eyes were fixed on Jorah instead, watching him swim in the night waters, with breast strokes that met the ocean current on its own terms, and skill that betrayed he’d been swimming in the sea since he was a little boy. </p><p>A little smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, pulling up towards the edges. Especially as I watched him come back towards shore, finding his footing and wading back to me, the powerful rays of that full moon giving me an uninhibited view of the man I’d married. </p><p>His physique was so broad and powerful, muscular but lean from days pulling up nets of fish, and desire pooled in my stomach, growing stronger with each step he took back to me, running a large hand through his wet hair, droplets of seawater falling down his chest and strong arms, then his torso and thighs, as he slowly emerged from deeper waters. And I…</p><p>I bit my bottom lip and waited for him to realize…</p><p>
   
 </p><p>“Daenerys!” he knew at once, of course. But I expected this, keeping my grin small as he abruptly stopped his trudge up from the water. His usually bashful nature had been abandoned while he sought to cool off, but came back in a rush. Despite there being only me to see him, I noticed he made sure to keep his lower half covered by seawater. </p><p><em>Mostly covered</em>, I noted, as a cresting wave drew out more water than he expected. </p><p>Silly bear. I knew every inch of his body, by sight, by feel, by kiss. I could follow the planes of Jorah’s skin blind. </p><p>But, in that moment, how glad I was to have my sight. And I took full advantage of it, taking no pains to hide my obvious interest.      </p><p>And I know he was thinking the same carnal thoughts that I was. He could pretend otherwise, but that hooded, lusty look that he cast my way up in our bedroom betrayed him fully. The humid air around us sparked with <em>heat</em>. Lightning bugs felt it, blinking out to their mates on the dark beach. The moon simmered with thoughts of fullness and fertility. The lapping waters of the Jade Sea were sheets of satin and I would lay in them with my husband before this night was over.</p><p>“What?” I played innocent. My legs did not, knees spreading apart a hair, suggestively.</p><p>“My clothes, <em>Khaleesi</em>?” he replied, coming inland another few steps. Perhaps he realized modesty was of little use here, before his own wife. “Where did they go?”</p><p>“Come over here and I’ll tell you,” I beckoned slyly, hiking the damp hem of my nightgown just a <em>little</em> higher on my knees.</p><p>Jorah blinked at the tone. We’d been rather chaste in our couplings lately, with a baby in the house. Not that there wasn’t passion between us, but it was a quieter kind than a few years ago, when we first discovered how well we liked one another. The midnight air had brought out a side of me that was <em>very</em> bold, dragon-like in its fire, and one I’d often used on him at the beginning of all this, when I realized that my northern lord was not the kind of man to make the first move. </p><p>If he was the sea god tonight, then I was the siren. And I’d sing him to shore before this was done.</p><p>…or maybe I’d join him? </p><p>I laughed merrily, unable to keep up the game for long. He was too stubborn, still lingering in the sea, and we’d be here all night if I didn’t give up first. Besides, this was a game I didn’t mind losing. With a chuckle, I sprung up from where I sat, to join him in the water. It wasn’t cold now, as my skin was feverish, warmed from the inside out, burning with an ache that only he could satisfy. </p><p>I waded out to him, taking no notice of the drenched nightgown. Our hands were soon joined above the water and as the water lapped around us, I reached up to steal a kiss from his ever-compliant lips.</p><p>“You hid them?” he laughed, clucking his tongue, as if I were a naughty child. But I wasn’t the one wearing nothing but what I’d entered the world in.</p><p>“I like the way you look without them, Ser,” I replied with a frank gaze over <em>all</em> of him, shrugging with smug satisfaction. He nearly sighed, but it was a feeble one. The irrepressible grin gracing his handsome features got in the way.</p><p>Oh, this was too easy. Not that I’d complain. </p><p>I never hid my wants, nor my desires from Jorah. With him, I could be honest about everything. Always. And he could never hide his wants and desires from me, even if he tried. It would be a foolish endeavor, in any case. I could read his features like a book. </p><p>And right now, he wanted to kiss me. And I wanted to kiss him back. Under the full moon, floating between gentle ocean waves. He drew me back into deeper waters, where the buoyancy added a light, carefree nature to our movements and it was all cooling water and heat-drunk kisses. </p><p>I clung to him, allowing his arms to lift me from the ocean floor and keep me close. I would never be a strong swimmer, having never learned as a child. Jorah taught me how to swim years ago, down here on this beach and in freshwater lakes back in the hill country. He was a good and patient teacher, and he said I took to it well. I wouldn’t drown if caught out here on my own.</p><p>Still, I preferred the steadying grip of his arms around my waist. Given the choice, that’s where I’d stay most of the time. In my bear’s embrace.</p><p>My legs were soon wrapped around his hips and we moved with the water, our tongues sliding over each other passionately, our lips grazing and teasing, our breaths coming quicker and hotter, as there was nothing between us but the sheer fabric of my drenched nightgown and seawater. But we took our time, lingering in the swells for a while. I never tired of his kisses, and tasted all those familiar hints of citrus, salt and mint. And there was lemon and lavender in the air around us, orange blossoms and night-blooming jasmine. All the night scents of the Jade Sea, its humid air washed pale by seawater. </p><p>“We should stop,” he said once, but without conviction, as he reluctantly lifted his head from a line of soft kisses that he’d been trailing down the plunging neckline of my watered-down frock. The fabric was soaked and clung to every bit of me.  </p><p>“No, I don’t want to stop,” I told him. His hesitation was for me. But it was baseless and foolish. These last few months, a desire had been stirring inside me. I’d told him plainly that I wanted another baby. And I knew that any flickering hesitation he felt was because he knew he wouldn’t fail me if we tried.</p><p>Because Jorah <em>never</em> failed me.</p><p>And it would happen tonight if we went any further. I’m not sure how we both knew that, but it just felt like a foregone thing. Inevitable. Destined to be.</p><p><em>Good</em>. I thought, always happiest when I got my way. I grinned against the side of his mouth, and shifted my weight against him, my hands taking either side of his whiskered face, my hips rolling gently as we rode through another moonlit comber. I timed the roll with the pitch of the wave and this time elicited a response from him that he had little control over. </p><p>He could fight me on the idea, but he’d lose. His hesitation only stoked my overwhelming desire for him even more. He was a man who would deny himself to protect me, no matter the cost. </p><p>Didn’t he realize that made me love him more? <em>Want</em> him more? </p><p>Jorah was not like other men. I’d seen enough of the world, I’d heard enough from other women. Any other man would have demanded more children from me already. As soon as Jeorgianna was weaned, any other man would have asked when he might expect a son, no matter the danger to me.</p><p>But Jorah would never ask. He would never demand. He would caution and he would hesitate. And he would worry. Oh, how he would worry. I broke off from a deeper kiss to look at his dear features, my fingers running those lines that I’d seen creased with such worries. But smiles too, and joy.</p><p>Like the joy I saw when I handed Jeorgianna into his arms for the first time, our newborn daughter, not even an hour old. And the same joy I’d see again, nine months from this very night. </p><p>My hands had drifted back to ring around his neck, water dripping down my crossed forearms. Waves broke over us gently and Jorah held us steady, as we brought our foreheads together, touching in a moment of calm before we resumed our kisses, quickly growing in intensity and urgency. I arched against him, and he was carrying me towards the beach.</p><p><em>You see, Jorah?</em> I wanted to remind him. <em>My way is always better</em>.</p><p>But my mouth was too busy with his to speak words that he knew already. He carried me to the beach like a bride, and I felt the weight of gravity as we broke the water line. The incoming tide had found the rocks where I’d hastily stashed his clothes. Drags of seawater washed them down the shore to meet us as we walked inland. But that game was long over and I was satisfied to see him fling them further up the sandy beach with almost a growl, after he laid me down at the surf line, lying on his side just by me.</p><p>I wasn’t done with his kisses just yet. Never done.  I reached for his bearded chin and drew his mouth back to mine.</p><p>We lay together on the beach, soon entangled, rolling in wet sand, my silver hair drenched and speckled with salt and sand, his chest hair damp and dripping under my wandering touch. My hands ran up his torso and across his broad back, the pads of my fingers gripping at those strong shoulder muscles that could carry me to hell and back again. Jorah’s rough-worn hands gathered me, moved me, my body pliable to his every touch, familiar and in tune with his rhythms. </p><p>The nightgown was little more than a scrap of white cloth between us now, stained by saltwater and sand. I didn’t notice that I still wore it, until Jorah helped me take it off, slipping it over my head and tossing it aside into his pile of clothes. </p><p>With pleasure, I moaned into Jorah’s mouth at the same moment he found release, feeling the heady sensation of humid air and a flood of warmth between my legs, followed by chilled water breaking over our tangled bodies, washing the sweat away and cooling the flush of our lovemaking. </p><p>The surf continued to break on the shore, but less and less, as the tide was drawn out and the night reached its end. The earliest strands of violet dawn paled over the horizon, blushing rosy pink almost at once, as they witnessed Jorah and I, in the act of making our son.  </p><p>With our kisses finally exhausted, I remember lying on my back in the sand, catching my breath and reaching up to caress the side of his face so softly, marveling over his dear face, more familiar to me than any other, the whole world over.</p><p>His blue eyes marveled back at me much the same, before dropping to press one last kiss against my brow and another at my temple.</p><p>“I love you madly, Daenerys,” he rasped in my ear.</p><p>“Blood of my blood,” I murmured back. </p><p>
  <em>Flesh of my flesh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soul of my soul.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Aemon was born almost nine months later, to the day. Safe and healthy, despite all my fretting bear’s deepest fears. Born at dawn, while the same stars and moon that witnessed our passionate night on that beach lingered in the heavens, holding their breath beneath my son’s first cries. </p><p>This was fitting, I always thought. For <em>Dawn</em> blessed all of our children, but Aemon most of all. </p><p>Years and years later, on tempestuous, frothy shores, Aemon would kneel in white sand, ginger-bearded, tall and strong like his father. He was already battle-tested then, and in the midst of tussling with our darkest enemy. </p><p>That day, Ashara Dayne would take her family’s pale, milk-glass blade from its scabbard and knight my son the Sword of the Morning.</p>
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